The Newcomer. Fern Britton
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Helen answered, ‘I suspect Piran may have been less than charming to your aunt. He doesn’t always remember to take his charm pills.’
‘The water was bleddy cold, woman!’ Piran said. ‘It didn’t improve my mood. But I am sorry if I caused offence to an old lady. I may have been a bit gruff.’
Robert stepped in. ‘You’d better not let her hear you calling her an old lady. She believes she’s still in her prime.’
‘She is!’ said Angela. ‘More stamina than any of us. But she does tend to be free with her opinions and that day she was less than gracious to you.’
‘Was she OK? Afterwards?’ Piran asked.
‘Right as rain,’ smiled Angela. ‘But thank you again for rescuing her.’
Helen stood up and collected the empty plates from her guests. As she put them in the dishwasher she asked Piran, ‘Would you get the fruit salad and ice cream out the fridge, darling?’
‘Ice cream? No clotted?’ he asked.
‘I didn’t get any. Did you?’ Helen asked pointedly.
‘Why would I get clotted cream?’ he said, pulling the bowl of chopped fruit out of the fridge.
‘Well, if you like it, you can get it,’ smiled Helen. ‘That’s the way things work around here.’
She took the bowl from him and placed it into the centre of the table while he pulled a tub of Cornish vanilla ice cream from the freezer.
Piran sat down and said to Robert, ‘Women ’spect us to be bleddy mind readers. Sometimes, I come in here to see Helen, and from the look on her face I can tell I have failed a test I didn’t even know I was taking.’
Robert looked at Angela and thought better of agreeing with Piran. ‘Well, you know, sometimes perhaps we are just preoccupied with our own things and forget that. I mean, Angela and I have decided to reverse our roles for this coming year. She has always been the one at home, keeping the home fires burning, shouldering the child care. I never had to think about anything domestic. She did it all while I worked in the world I love. Now, I shall do the same for her while she’s here.’
‘Oh, aye? Gonna be one of them househusbands, are you?’ growled Piran.
‘Yes,’ smiled Robert. ‘And happily.’
Helen passed a bowl of fruit to Robert. ‘Well, I think that’s wonderful. It’s high time some of the men in this village had a bit of a shake-up and began to value what the women do around here.’
‘Was that aimed at me?’ Piran said gruffly. ‘’Cos you know perfectly well, Helen Merrifield, that I treat all people as equals.’
‘I do know,’ Helen answered, ‘you treat all people equally badly.’ She handed a bowl to Angela, laughing. ‘And yet, beneath that beard and hard exterior, this man here is the kindest man I have ever known.’
Piran tucked into his pudding with a dark look.
‘You are, Piran. And you know it.’ Helen took his free hand and addressed Robert and Angela. ‘He and the Reverend Simon have known each other since they were boys. They swam, fished and surfed together. When Simon was deciding to go into the Church, it was Piran he turned to. And when the opportunity to help in Brazil came, Piran was the one who encouraged him. And when Piran had a difficult time some years back, Simon was there for him.’
Angela was sympathetic. ‘May I ask what happened?’
Piran put his spoon down and rubbed his chin. ‘My fiancée was killed by a hit-and-run driver.’
‘Shit,’ said Robert.
‘’Twas,’ Piran said bluntly.
‘It’s why Simon and Penny’s daughter is called Jenna. In honour of the memory of Piran’s girlfriend,’ Helen finished.
‘That’s lovely,’ said Angela. ‘You must be missing Simon, Piran.’
‘Yeah.’
The four of them sat quietly in the low light of the kitchen.
After a couple of minutes Piran got up. ‘Fancy a beer, Robert?’
‘Erm …’ Robert checked his watch. ‘What do you think, Angela?’
Helen was suspicious. ‘Are you going to the pub, or having it here?’
‘Oh, here, here,’ said Piran, pretending the thought of the pub had never entered his head.
‘Go on,’ Angela said to Robert. ‘I’ll help Helen clear up.’
Piran took two bottles of Doom Bar from the fridge and, followed by Robert, carried them into the lounge and began stoking up the dwindling fire.
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